


Arrangements

by Serindrana



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Femslash February
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-27 22:46:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/667325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serindrana/pseuds/Serindrana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How many times has Hawke said those exact words, to this exact woman? <i>It won't happen again - Carver is an ass but he's not stupid. It won't happen again, now that I know that particular oil is particularly flammable. It won't happen again, because my year is up and I can't afford to stay bound up with a professional smuggler.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Arrangements

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cleromancy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cleromancy/gifts).



“It won’t happen again.”

How many times has Hawke said those exact words, to this exact woman?  _It won’t happen again - Carver is an ass but he’s not stupid. It won’t happen again, now that I know that particular oil is particularly flammable. It won’t happen again, because my year is up and I can’t afford to stay bound up with a professional smuggler_.

Athenril snorts as she buckles up her armor, but doesn’t say anything. Her hair is loose, and if it’s thinner than it used to be, Marian assumes it’s a choice for the summer heat. She resists the urge to reach out and card her fingers through it again, or bind it back for the other woman. Athenril is an adult. She can do this herself.

Marian lets her head fall back for a moment against the wall of the supply room. “Did Aveline plan this?” she asks, before she can think better of bringing her paranoia into the open.

For a long moment, Athenril doesn’t move.

It makes sense, Marian thinks. Aveline asked her to run a secondary patrol, and there’s no doubt she keeps tabs on Athenril as a liability, as a threat to Kirkwall and to her security and good standing. The new guard captain can’t risk being tied amicably to a smuggler. So Aveline knew Athenril would be here, and knew that once upon a time, a lonely mage and a predatory smuggler had fallen into bed together and hadn’t gotten out for a good six months (give or take), and that that  _particular_  lonely mage was having more than a little trouble adjusting to life in a mansion and life without her brother. Aveline was no Isabela, but Hawke was fairly certain she understood the need for stress release.

And maybe it had been the right decision, sending her into Athenril’s path like this, but that doesn’t change the fact that this was probably a very poor decision. Marian rubs her hands over her face. Athenril’s not going to answer. She never does. She’s all tightly wound up and secretive, just like a good thief is, and she has always been good at walking away as if nothing has happened.

( _Except_ , a little thought whispers,  _when you let those kids take that one shipment. Except when you refused to work another year for her. Except when you found her waiting conveniently close to Gamlen’s hovel after you returned with all your wealth, and you tossed her unceremoniously down the steps because if you hadn’t, you would have gotten sucked right back in_.)

“I don’t know,” Athenril says at last. “Did she send you?”

Marian nods.

“Then she certainly couldn’t have planned on you arresting me.” Her step is light as she closes the distance between them, and Marian flinches away, expecting a gentle, intimate touch against her cheek or lips. Instead, Athenril just clasps her shoulder. “Get back to your mansion, Lady Hawke.”

And that’s enough. Her thin layer of control shreds and her knees buckle. Athenril lets her crumple to the ground and fold in on herself. “I can’t do this,” Hawke whispers into her knees.

Athenril crouches in front of her. “Of course you can. I gave you everything you need.”

Marian’s brow creases.

“You know exactly who to bribe to keep you safe. You know exactly where to invest your money, and what to stay away from. There. You have security. The rest is doable, after that. You have your mother, and your status, and your little motley army, and you’ve gotten farther than you could ever have done with me.”

“And what do I do now?”

“Keep moving forward, stop looking back.” A quick, thin smile flickers across her face.  _Leave me behind_ , that’s what she’s saying.

Except-

“I actually,” Marian says through a thickening throat, “have some… some extra funds to invest. One of my ideas didn’t work out. Maybe…”

“I don’t mix business and pleasure,” Athenril says, and Marian can’t help but laugh, a braying, surprised thing.

“Bullshit,” Marian says, and the skin around Athenril’s eyes crinkles with a barely suppressed grin. “Take my money.”

“Not sure how much I can do with it in Kirkwall,” Athenril says, sitting back. Their legs tangle together, clothed this time. Marian leans her calf against Athenril’s. “Might have to go farther afield, to get you something good. And to make sure you stay out of my  _business_.”

“But you’ll come back from time to time?” Marian asks, wiping at her barely dry eyes.

Athenril shrugs, but the light in her eyes is undeniable. She’ll be back. She’ll be back with jewels and gold, for little snatches of time that will never go for too long until they’re both ready, and in the meantime, Marian will build her life. A noblewoman can have business pursuits, after all, and contacts in the underworld as long as she is  _discreet_. And if she can be discreet about working with a possessed apostate and a runaway slave and a pirate queen and a Dalish keeper- she can handle being discreet about a smuggler, as long as she has set terms. It’s probably the best deal she’ll ever get from Athenril, and she holds out her hand.

Athenril takes it, and presses kisses along her knuckles.


End file.
